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When someone is a little too sarcastic or mean-spirited in what they say to me, I usually think of a nice retort much too late, sometimes not even the same day. Granted, sometimes it's better to not say anything, to be the bigger person, so to speak. But every now and then people (including myself) need to be reminded that they aren't the center of the universe. In a nice way.
My summer job during my college years was on the flight line at Sheppard AFB. The base trained Euro-NATO pilots on the T-37 and T-38 aircraft. As a summer hire, my job was to do the simpler tasks, like refueling and cleaning the windscreens, and to assist in the not-so-simple ones, like sitting in the cockpit pressing on the "brake pedals" while the real mechanics worked on the brakes. And most fun of all, I got to launch the aircraft (pictured).
Launching an aircraft involved taking the pins out of the landing gear (so that they could be raised once the plane was in the air) and stowing them, stowing the grounding wire, stowing the pitot tube cover, hooking up the compressed air hose to the engine (used to start the plane when the pilot was ready), and getting any items the pilot needed for the cockpit. While I was doing that, the instructor pilot and his student were doing their walk-around inspection and then getting strapped into the cockpit. Once in, I would remove the ladders and get ready to turn on the compressed air when given the signal. Once the engine was running, I would remove the hose, remove the tire blocks, and marshal them out. Simply put, the pilots could not take off without ground support.
One day, we were extremely busy. A couple of pilots had done their walk-around and were waiting for someone to launch them. They were concerned that they weren't going to make their launch time, which meant having to come back later in the day. All of the mechanics were busy. I was refueling the plane next to the waiting pilots, and I couldn't leave to help until I was finished with that job. When I finished 5-10 minutes later, I told the fuel truck driver that I would start refueling the next plane once I launched the other plane.
So, we're extremely busy, and I was taking time out of the task I should've been doing to make sure these guys made their launch time, which was observed by the waiting pilots. I rushed over to the other plane and asked the instructor if they needed anything for the cockpit, and said in an angry tone, "I need a couple of spacers for the front, and I needed it done yesterday!"
To which I calmly replied, "Well, if you come back tomorrow, it will be."
Many years ago I was in Hollywood with my girlfriend at the time and her son. Let's call the son James. We were shopping one day and stopped into a comic book store. Each of us has gone off to look at different things. I was looking at the old Spider-Man comics when I suddenly heard a recognizable voice over the racks of comic books: the voice of Samuel L. Jackson.
"No, I ain't no Denzel Washington!"
Apparently, someone had mistook him for another actor, and he was letting that person know that he was mistaken. He didn't sound angry, but imagine the tone of Jules from Pulp Fiction during his "furious anger" speech.
And then I had a thought. Oh please don't let him be talking to James. I worked my way through the store and bumped into James working his way through the store to find me. He asked who that actor was, and I told him. And then I asked him if Mr. Jackson was talking to him. James lowered his head and said, "Well, I couldn't remember his name."
We asked for a picture, but he politely said no (very politely actually), so we left him alone. I'm just thankful he didn't sound entirely like one of his characters and add a curse word or two to his response to the Denzel Washington question.
I'll leave the curse words to your imagination.
I'm not a teacher, but I'm guessing that they prefer a class full of honor students versus the alternative, but sometimes those smart kids use their big brains for evil instead of good.
When I was a senior in high school I took a Calculus class. The students in that class consisted entirely of the top 20-30 in that grade. The teacher was a very nice woman, although she had a tendency to go off on tangents. She had a clock sitting on her desk, and she once mentioned that the alarm on it sounded very similar to the fire alarm our school used.
A few months later we had a substitute teacher. Before the class started (and before the teacher was in the room), someone came up with the idea to set the alarm to go off during class. (I would credit the person who came up with the idea if I could remember who it was. No, it wasn't me.) When the alarm went off, the substitute asked what it was, and we innocently replied that we thought it was a fire drill. And one of the students, who had a very prominent nose, started sniffing the air and shouted, "I smell smoke!"
The substitute wasn't sure of the fire alarm process, so she told us to do what we normally do. We hadn't really thought that far ahead, so we just went outside. While we were heading out the teacher in the room next to ours told our teacher that there hadn't really been a fire drill, so those of us who had made it out of the room were sent to the office.
We didn't do anything too terrible, so we weren't going to get in a lot of trouble. But it was even less of a problem since both the principal and assistant principal were out of the office that day. The only two staff members working at that time were the secretaries, my mom and Mrs. Biddy, who also had a son in that class. When they were told what had happened, they both just rolled their eyes and sent us all back to class.
Of course, there were other consequences. When our regular teacher returned the next day she gave us a 1 question pop quiz. You either made a 100 or a 0. But I think most of us in the class thought it was worth it.
As you might have noticed, I'm a bit anal retentive. (That's like saying a woman is a bit pregnant.) And obsessive compulsive. And a nerd. I'm fortunate that the work I do (testing software) is made for people like me, but it also means that I like to fix everyone and everything. Even the Bible.
I have a study Bible, also jokingly known as a cheater's Bible, and I gave myself a goal of reading the entire Bible since it's something I've never done before. I started with the New Testament (because it's shorter). When I finish I plan to go back to the Old Testament for more of the historical information.
One of the things I like about the study Bible is the section before each book that describes who the author was, who it was written to or for, and the major themes of that book. Last week I was reading 1 Peter when I see a small typo ... nothing major, and it didn't hinder the meaning of the passage in any way.
But, I couldn't let it go, so I e-mailed the publisher Zondervan this following tidbit:
On the Megathemes section of 1 Peter (pg. 2100), in the Importance portion of the Salvation theme the last sentence spells "should" as "shuld".
I included that I was pretty sure that it had already been corrected for future printings, and I expressed my gratitude for a wonderful Bible.
But now I can rest easy knowing that this version will be fixed for future readers. You're welcome!
EPILOGUE: I got a reply from Carrie Colter in Customer Care (a nice bit of alliteration) saying that the information had been passed on to the Bible department for advisement. In other words, "Thanks, nerd boy. Go have that OCD looked at." :)
At my current job my employer provides a corporate American Express card for business use. Due to cost cutting, or as we call it, aligning our expense to revenue ratio, we don't travel as much. Plus, would any company want me to be their "face" to the customers?
So, I haven't use my card in many, many months. And if I don't use the card I don't get a statement. However, this past month I got a bill for $0.00. The reason they sent me a statement was to include a notice saying they weren't going to send paper statements any more. To save money and the environment all future statements are going to be via e-mail.
So, wouldn't it have saved even more money if they just would have sent the notice via e-mail?
Every now and then something happens in my life to remind me that I'm an idiot. I did some financial planning this past week and part of the comparison included my current life insurance policy and some that they offered. Since I don't have the policy handy, I called my agent this morning to get a copy of it. She didn't have it on file so she had to get it from the home office and was going to e-mail me the info when she got it.
Later, she e-mailed me the info, but I was confused by the monthly charge. I called her and asked why the monthly charge was $35, yet $70 was being drafted from my checking account every month. She gave me the policy number for a second policy that was also being drafted from my account and the phone number for the home office so that I could have the auto-draft removed, if need be.
The home office gave me the information on that second policy, and I immediately responded with, "Holy crap!" I was the primary policy holder on another life insurance policy. I won't give the name of the secondary, but it was someone I stopped dating in 1999. So for 10 years I've been paying the premium on that ex-girlfriend's life insurance policy.
Yeah, that auto-draft was removed.
A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control. - Proverbs 29:11
In my younger days I had my share of foolish times. I'm not saying it doesn't still happen in my older days, but hopefully much less often. During some of those foolish times I was able to "give full vent to my anger" in private; however, I sometimes wasn't as alone as I thought.
Many, many years ago I had a terrible cell phone. Well, the phone was OK; however, the battery wouldn't stay secure and would sometimes come loose in the middle of a call. And since there wasn't power, I would lose the connection.
One time this happened I was in the middle of leaving a voicemail for a friend. I was telling her I was on my way to pick her up for lunch when I heard the call disconnect. I looked at the phone in disgust, threw it on the passenger floorboard of my car, and vented my frustrations with a barrage of obscenities aimed at the phone. Never has an inanimate object been the subject of such a scolding.
A few minutes later I was picking up the friend. She asked me why was I screaming obscenities in the voicemail. I said, "Oh, you heard that?" Apparently, the call didn't really disconnect and she heard every word. So yes, she did hear that.
And she thought it was so funny she replayed the message for all of her coworkers. Repeatedly.
They say the Lord works in mysterious ways. I guess that's another way of saying that we don't always know or understand what His plan for us is. Trust me, there's a lot I don't understand. :) (And no, I don't know who they are, but they sure do say a lot.)
My parents wanted three kids. That was their plan. First, they had my brother Richard. A few years later, when my dad was stationed in England, they had my brother Robert. I never got the chance to meet Robert because after a little more than a month, he passed away from fluid on the lungs. A couple of years later, when dad was stationed in his final stop of Texas, they had my sister Teresa.
Again, my parents had planned on three kids. So a couple of years later they tried again. And they had twins. Since I am the younger twin, my incredibly handsome brother Ron has always maintained that they didn't actually want me. My rebuttal has been that it was a shame then that I turned out the best. (No, that's not really true, but it's the only rebuttal I have.)
I would never claim that having Ron and me was a blessing in disguise, because there is plenty of evidence to the contrary, but I think about my brother Robert when I'm confused about the paths my own life has taken. Sometimes we just have to trust that there's a bigger plan for each of us.
Over the years I've received my share of compliments. Of course, I've also received my share of insults and criticisms, but that's not important. As for the compliments, there was one that surprised me more than usual.
The MS150 is a 150 mile (or more) bike ride in various cities in which the proceeds from donations benefit the National MS Society. The Houston to Austin MS150 is around 170 miles over two days, with an overnight stay in La Grange. The first day is around 100 miles of mostly flat riding. The second day is around 70 miles and goes through Bastrop and Buescher State Parks. This part of the ride also has a few more hills in it.
None of the hills are difficult for the professional or frequent riders, but a lot of the people riding the MS150 are neither professional nor frequent riders, including me. So, on some of the steeper hills people would have to walk their bikes to the top and catch their breath. The really difficult hills would have many, many people sitting at the top resting and catching their breath.
I've ridden the MS150 four times, but I only finished it three times. The first year I had the flu and had to drop out after 80 miles (detailed here). My second year I was determined to finish it. Plus, to make up for not finishing the year before I gave myself an additional goal of not having to walk my bike up any of the hills.
On that second day during the hilly section most of the hills weren't a problem. As I was riding I saw the steepest hill of the ride coming up. I could see several people walking their bikes up the hill, so I accelerated to get some momentum. About halfway up the hill my pace slowed considerably, almost to a stop. I stood in the saddle and forced my legs to keep peddling. A few agonizing moments later and I reached the top. I sat down in the saddle and exhaled in relief.
Unbeknownst to me, some people resting at the top had been watching me battle my way to the top. When I got there, there was a few congratulations yelled in my direction. However, one of them caught me off guard.
After it got quiet, a woman yelled at me, "You're a better man than I am!"
No woman had ever said that to me before (or since), so I wasn't quite sure how to respond. With a confused look, I gave the only response I could think of:
"Uh, thanks?"
Robert Fulghum is the author of the bestselling book All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, which is one of my favorite books. The followup book, It Was On Fire When I Lay Down On It, was also very good. In that book, he told the following story:
A traveler went to Chartres in France to see the great church that was being built there. He arrived at the site just as the workmen were leaving for home. He asked a man, covered with dust, what he did there. The man replied that he was a stonemason. Another man, when asked, said he was a glassblower, who made slabs of colored glass. Another said he was a blacksmith who pounded iron.
Wandering inside the unfinished edifice, the traveler came upon an older woman, armed with a broom, sweeping up the stone chips, wood shavings and glass shards from the day's work. "What are you doing?" he asked. The woman leaned on her broom, looked toward the high arches and replied, "Me? I'm building a cathedral for the glory of God."
Now there was a woman who knew how to look at the big picture.
Some recent events at my job reminded me of this story. I work for a computer company testing software. My job is to make sure the product does what it's supposed to do and that the quality is good enough for our customers.
With the current economy people are worried about their jobs and hope they rank high in their department. Managers are always trying to measure employees, and for QA people one of the common measurements is the number of defects found during testing. It's not a foolproof measurement, but it's a tangible one that gets used a lot.
A coworker mentioned to me that his manager was disappointed that another group found a defect in his product instead of him. Of course, there's many valid reasons for this: 1) that set of testing wasn't his responsibility, 2) that defect wasn't there when he tested it and was just recently introduced, or 3) the other group had the resources to test it and his group didn't. His concern was that his ranking would be lower because he wasn't the one that found the defect.
To me, it's a shame that he has to worry about that. I'm not saying it's not a valid concern because I'm sure his manager will use this in his ranking. However, we should be happy that the defect was even found before the product was shipped, no matter who found it. Our job is to ship a product that has value for the customer and works well.
That's the big picture.
My summer job during my college years was on the flight line at Sheppard AFB. The base trained Euro-NATO pilots on the T-37 and T-38 aircraft. As a summer hire, my job was to do the simpler tasks, like refueling and cleaning the windscreens, and to assist in the not-so-simple ones, like sitting in the cockpit pressing on the "brake pedals" while the real mechanics worked on the brakes. And most fun of all, I got to launch the aircraft (pictured).
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